‘Good gracious, no. I have no patience with amateurs.’ Lady Jarrow’s eyes glittered with an expression that looked a lot like triumph. ‘Samuel will teach you.’
Chapter Nine
‘I can’t.’ Miss Fortini stared at the placid and sleepy-looking mount before her as if it were some kind of fire-breathing dragon.
‘She’s the most mild-mannered horse in the stables,’ Samuel attempted to reassure her.
‘I still can’t.’ She gestured at her skirts. ‘I’m not properly dressed.’
He ran a hand over his chin and cleared his throat non-committally. There was really no disputing the statement, though he took the opportunity to steal a glance at her lower body anyway. Her dress was practical enough, but nothing like a riding habit, though it looked as if someone had attached some extra material to the skirts in a half-hearted attempt to conceal the fact. Of course if she didn’t ride then presumably she didn’t own a proper habit; something that he, or his grandmother anyway, ought to have considered.
‘Horses don’t care what you’re wearing.’ He looked up again before his staring became obvious. ‘And we won’t go outside the mews this morning. Today is just about getting you comfortable on horseback.’
‘Today is a mistake.’ She glared at the horse and then him. ‘Surely your grandmother wasn’t serious about what she said?’
‘Does she strike you as a person who makes idle threats? She definitely won’t receive you again if you don’t even try.’
‘Well, if this is some kind of punishment then it’s not fair.’
He shrugged, though personally he was inclined to agree. It wasn’t fair on either of them. Impressed though he’d been by her apology, which must have taken some considerable degree of courage, he hadn’t been thrilled by the prospect of teaching her to ride, particularly after the way she’d reacted to the news of his possible inheritance. She’d seemed downright horrified at the time and apparently still was. She’d seemed determined to avoid looking him in the eye when they’d met on the C
ircus that morning, barely speaking a word until they’d reached the stables. Well, since she obviously found the company of an earl, even a potential one, so odious, the last thing he wanted to do was waste his time with teaching her. As usual, however, there was no gainsaying his grandmother, especially when she challenged him about what else he had to do. And when a small, contrary part of him still wanted to spend time with her... He shook his head at his own foolishness. If he searched the whole of England, he could hardly have found a woman more likely to reject him.
‘Here, just stroke her. She won’t bite.’
‘How do you know?’ Miss Fortini shot him a glance that suggested she might, though she did as he suggested anyway, placing her hand nervously on the mare’s nose.
‘That’s it.’ He nodded approvingly. ‘Her name’s Bramble and she’s a sweet old thing.’
‘How old?’
‘Around thirty, I should think. I used to ride her when I was a boy before my grandmother insisted I have my own horse.’
For the first time that morning she looked him straight in the eye, her own curious. ‘You seem very close to your grandparents.’
‘I am. They practically raised me.’
‘What happened to your parents?’
‘Lots of things.’ He gave her a pointed look. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Stop trying to delay the inevitable.’ He slotted his fingers together to make a step, putting an end to the subject of his parents. ‘Now lean your shoulder against the saddle, put your foot in my hands and take it slowly.’
‘Do you promise she’s docile?’
‘I doubt you could find a more docile creature in the whole of Bath. She’s practically asleep on her feet right now.’
‘All right...’ Miss Fortini gave him a dubious look and then placed her right foot in his hands, exposing a length of shapely, be-stockinged calf all the way up from her ankle to her knee. Samuel looked before he could stop himself, so impressed that for an unguarded moment he was actually tempted to reach out and stroke it, too, though he had a feeling that would cause both her and the horse to bolt...
‘There.’ She placed one shoulder against the side saddle like he’d told her, sounding particularly pleased with herself despite the fact that one of her feet was still planted firmly on the ground. ‘Now what?’
‘Now grab hold of the pommel, keep your legs as straight as possible and pull yourself up.’
‘Into the saddle?’
‘That would be the general idea. I’ll give your foot a push, too.’ He lifted an eyebrow when she didn’t move. ‘Or I could just lift you if you prefer?’
‘No.’ Her answer came even quicker than he’d expected. ‘I can do it.’
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before hoisting herself inelegantly into the saddle, exposing both of her calves and one thigh this time as she struggled to rearrange herself.